Monday night highlights

We entertained a fun friend of Barney's tonight, an Irish resident of New Zealand and all around fun person. It's been ages since I've been Out on a Monday. ARSP brought back fond memories, and some sadness, when she noted, "I miss 80s Night." Trivia and tunes. Those were the Mondays.

Memorable lines from the evening:

"My God this drink burns! What did you put in it? Holy water?"

"Underwear night needs more Mormons."

steamy

I have always been curious about the hot baths and hot tub spas around Japantown. I have friends who swear by them as a relaxing experience, but body-issues aside, I have always been intimidated by the idea as I am completely ignorant of the protocol.

Well, this little hottie in Japan has made a wonderfully instructive video for foreigners like us on how to take a bath in the communal hot tubs of Japan, or Onsen. On Vimeo: How to Onsen.

How to Onsen from Leslie Marsh on Vimeo.

slinging in the rain

Question: Hey, do you think I should start a line of rain wear called "For Reals?"

Answer:

T-wrecks me.

Now this just freaks me out.

Concave face optical illusion. Watch the T-Rex watch you.

passing notes

"Do you know any notaries?"
"I don't think so. My friends are more of 'yes'terries."

We can't miss you if you don't go away.

Instead of making a big media announcement that he is "leaving public life," I think that Public Life would have been perfectly happy if Alec Baldwin had just ghosted.

burning through their youth

He really doesn't like children being in adult spaces in the City. He thinks children should be kerosene and not heard.

hangin' with the boys

looking, out.

I ran into an old acquaintance while waiting for the work bus this morning. He asked me if I was still single. Then why. Then he suggested that maybe it's because I don't go out enough or engage different social circles. And maybe I should try that.

I considered reintroducing myself. It was clear he had confused me for someone else.

but can he skateboard?

Taking a break on the lawn outside my office, a large and very handsome hawk:



I was able to stand rather close and watch him for a while. Frankly from all I've heard, I thought he would have been watching me more carefully.

dancing bears, painted wings, things I almost remember...

Bear Weekend 2.0. I managed to miss all the Saturday night circuit parties (happily in favor of an hilarious, rainy game night) but Holy Bears that was fun. And exhausting.

Y'all have fun now. Call me from recovery.

c'm'ere you.

Via Heist, who has an epic beard.

Word.

good unintentions

Posted by a friend this morning:

Unintentionally, the best gay Valentine ever.

you spin me round round baby right round

Oh, someone sent me an Olympic-related Valentine.  I heart this.

loving cup

I went into the office kitchen to brew a pot of coffee, but since it's just me drinking it alone and it's Valentine's Day, I made a pot of bourbon.

How will I know?

Appropriate to Valentine's Day, and via Alert Reader Jimmi and Jezebel, the isolated vocals of Whitney Houston on "How Will I Know?"

I was always a casual fan of Whitney's, more distracted by the completely tragic personal life with a mother who hater her for being gay and the abusive closet and abusive relationship she had to live in to survive, but WOW, her voice.


Just, wow.

I love the produced version, but the vocal track is almost chilling. And it made me think of the vocal version sung by the Glee trio to open their memorial episode, which is also rather haunting in its beauty.


(forgive the subtitles, this is best version available on YouTube)

petal to the mettle

An omen? A sad commentary on my love life? Or perhaps or a subtle Valentine form the City that I love? In my path on the walk to work on this wet morning, a single, rain-dropped red rose petal.

Oh, the Humanities!

The Humanities program, or "Humes," was one of my great academic joys at Davidson. I'm glad it's still there, and disturbed that it is less popular tin students shying away from the grand theory a liberal arts education in favor of early specialization.

The Chronicle of Higher Education has a great piece: A Liberal-Arts College That Gets It Right



I also think that current President Carol Quillen is amazing and a terrific leader for the school.

In her exploration of humanism, she told me, she discovered the "experience of revelation through reading the words of people from a distant, alien age." Quillen remains devoted to the close reading of canonical texts. "Life is short," she said, "and those guys were smart." Quillen has a talent for combining academic eloquence with candor and self-doubt.

Each time I have heard her speak to alumni, it has made want to quit my job and go work for her just to be a part of fulfilling her vision.

Also from the story:

Davidson possesses a proud history, a devoted alumni base, and a sterling national reputation. It can pick and choose among applicants who receive generous financial aid and almost always graduate on time. The student-to-faculty ratio is held steady at about 10 to one, nearly all tenure-track. The college even manages to maintain a healthy Division I sports program while avoiding the kind of scandal that is presently consuming the academic reputation of the University of North Carolina, 130 miles east on I-85 in Chapel Hill.

When I visited the college recently, the tenured professors had a lot to say about their approach to teaching undergraduates, which means that they are teaching undergraduates and care enough about it to have an approach. This alone is different from what you often hear at big research universities or adjunct-dominated commuter schools. There’s also a lot of classroom collaboration among professors from different departments, to the point where it seems unremarkable. My questions about how members of the faculty support and evaluate one another’s teaching produced thoughtful answers, not puzzled stares. It was refreshing.

I do love clever.

"Until…"

doing my own bidding

My friend Ed organized the benefit "bachelor auction" for the SF Fog gay rugby team. Although "bachelor" is debatable as half of the 18 guys aren't single. And not everyone has Ed's rugged good looks, British accent, or a professional photographer for a roommate:

I went to support Ed and was outbid considerably. I also bid on—and "won"—a new friend. Heretofore to be known as The Other Wilson:


And while repeatedly out-bid on the quiet star of the show, I still walked away a winner.